Pavarotti
by YaoiIsLove
Summary: Pavarotti gets tired of Kurt and Blaine dancing around each other and wishes he could play matchmaker and with a little help does just that.


Title: Pavarotti

Rating: T

Pairing: Klaine.

Summary: Pavarotti gets tired of Kurt and Blaine dancing around each other and wishes he could play matchmaker and with a little help does just that.

Disclaimer: I own ABSOLUTELY nothing

Authors Note: This started out as serious but kind of spiraled once I got into Pavarotti's head. So it kind of turned crack-ish. Anyways, it was fun to write and Pavarotti's twitter inspired this A LOT, and of course a little push from my sister did too. She inadvertently suggested this idea many times. So I hope you enjoy.

PS. Running on a lack of sleep so my train of thought was very scattered. Sorry about that.

Pavarotti

Pavarotti took a drink of his water before jumping back over to his perch. He tweeted lightly at the two boys laughing together about some joke he wasn't sure. His current owner, Kurt, made a joke before blushing and looking away. This made Pavarotti tweet loudly in annoyance. Day in and day out he had to watch the two dance around each other. Whenever Kurt was worried about him, Pavarotti was grateful for this, he'd call Blaine and said boy would come rushing. Pavarotti liked his owner but his owner was going to get a severe painful pecking if he didn't stop acting like an idiot. Tis the season, but he was really getting tired of Kurt pining all day long.

When Blaine told Kurt 'good night' and 'Merry Christmas' Pavarotti tweeted loudly for Blaine to notice the fond loving smile on Kurt's face. Notice the slight flush to Kurt's cheeks, or the breathy reply. Pavarotti just knew what was going to follow the moment Kurt closed the door. The usual wistful sigh, hand over his heart, sit on the bed, and starry eyed gaze. Like clockwork Pavarotti watched the events unfold as they did every time Blaine was over. Only this time Kurt stared out the window whispering to himself 'he love me, he loves me not.' Pavarotti began to flap his wings, tweeting loudly to gain Kurt's attention. Kurt looked at him, smiling softly. "I love him, Pavarotti, but does he love me?"

Pavarotti tweeted loudly to say 'YES!' but Kurt seemed to not understand canary. How annoying. If it was one wish that Pavarotti had for Christmas it was to get these two some SERIOUS matchmaking help. Damn his tiny bird body.

Christmas Eve came and Kurt left for home in Lima. Pavarotti was use to this by now. Every new Warbler was not allowed to take him off the campus. As such around Christmas time he was left in the care of another Warbler. In this case he'd be in Wes's care, which kind of gave him a buzz kill. He liked Wes, he really did but sometimes Wes a little to uptight for him. Wes didn't even let him have his curtain down. How was a canary supposed to enjoy his private moments with everyone watching?

As always Wes cleaned his cage, taking away his tinsel nest and making a note to tell Kurt about it. Pavarotti tweeted in anger at him. He liked that tinsel nest, it was shining, and fabulous. At least Kurt got the hint that Pavarotti didn't want it moved. This is why Pavarotti made a resolution to peck Wes's hand every time he tried to put it in the cage.

Another thing Pavarotti liked better about Kurt was the way Kurt talked him through his nightly routine; Pavarotti felt included. Wes on the other hand, being all straight and macho as he was, merely changed his clothes, combed his head and climbed into bed. Very exciting. Not even a good night for his bird companion, nor a lowering of Pavarotti's curtain. That was it. Pavarotti was going to give him TWO pecks every time he tried to get into the cage.

With a tiny tweet of indignation he folded his head under his wing and dozed off. Not even an hour into his beauty sleep a tiny tapping on his cage woke him. Peeking out from under his wing he hopped at the appearance of a blue haired girl staring at him. She wore a green and red dress with a tinsel garland wrapped about her neck like a scarf. If Pavarotti had eyebrows he'd have raised. Instead he gave tiny tweets to say 'did you just step out of a Christmas tree?'

The girl gave a pout looking down at her ensemble. "I thought I'd dress festive, leave me alone."

Pavarotti perked up at that. She understood him?

"Of course I can understand you. Call me your canary fairy godmother," she smiled brightly.

Pavarotti rolled his eyes. 'My fairy godmother would know how to dress.'

She gave a huff, wagging a finger at him. "Looky here Mr. Cheeky McBeak I'm here to grant you a gift and you want to be snippy."

'A gift?'

"You said you wanted to get Kurt Hummel and Blaine Collins together, right?"

Was that Blaine's last name? He really didn't know. How weird. None the less he nodded.

"Then you get three days. I was going to give you till New Years but where is the fun in that. Starting tomorrow you have three days to get them together. After that the magic is reversed and back in the cage you go. Back to the constant dancing. OH! If you succeed there maybe a reward for you, Pavarotti. Good luck!"

Before he could ask any questions she was gone, leaving nothing but blue dust in her wake. Pavarotti gave a birdy cough before shaking his head. Weirdest Christmas Eve ever!

-o-o-o-

Pavarotti groaned, curling further in his feathery pillow of comfort. He was so tired, and just wanted more rest. Rolling over he glared as a blanket got tangled up around his legs almost like a tourniquet. Wait? Legs?

Shooting upright Pavarotti looked down to see a pair of long human legs. Accompanied with those legs were hands, and a torso, a human head full of flippy blonde hair. Hoping up to the floor he immediately wobbled on the spot and fell back to the bed. Dang the humans made walking look so easy. Okay, all he had to do was stand and then move one foot in front of the other, like flying, you needed baby steps. Getting up he stood up, ignoring the shaking in his knees. Slowly he lifted his left foot placing it in front of the right, then repeated with the opposite foot. When he didn't fall down again he deemed it successful. The only problem was how ridiculous he looked raising both knees practically to chest level.

"I'm telling you David, he was in the cage last night when I went to bed," Wes's voice floated through the thin dorm walls. Pavarotti turned quickly, falling to his butt with a thud.

"Oww," he whined, surprised by his slightly high pitched voice. It wasn't as high as Kurt's but higher than the average boys. It was different hearing something other than a tweet coming from his throat.

"No the cage hasn't been touched. Just please call everyone and we'll search the dorms."

So Wes thought he was missing? That made more sense then 'turned into a human'.

"I know it's Christmas day…just please…thank you."

Pavarotti wanted to help find himself, or at least get the chance to push Kurt and Blaine together a few times. Either way he couldn't do either in his naked state. Quickly he went to the closest only stumbling twice over his feet. He pulled out the Dalton uniform quickly donning and realizing blacks and reds did nothing for his complexion. Pastels worked so much better for him, but he couldn't very well make the uniform pastel purple and yellow, then he'd look like Easter. He was NOT one for looking like holidays.

Exiting the room he ran smack dab into Wes who was frantically searching for signs of his missing bird. Wes apologized before looking at him quickly. "Do I know you? I thought I knew everyone on this floor."

"I'm new," Pavarotti smiled, feeling his lips upturn in the gesture. "I'm Pava…rel. Pavarel. You can call me Pav, it's easier." It was probably not a good idea to go by Pavarotti when he looked like this.

"Pav," Wes nodded. "I'm Wes." Pavarotti nodded, already knowing this. "Have you seen a little yellow canary? Probably the size of my palm?"

"Little yellow canary? Nope, can't say that I have," he smiled, shrugging his shoulders.

"Shit," Wes cursed, making Pavarotti laugh. He'd never heard the uptight teen use such a slur before. "I know you're new, but is there any chance I can get your help in looking for him?"

"Sure, not a problem," he nodded, getting a thanks from Wes before the teen took off. Now how was one supposed to start looking for themselves? With a shrug he walked down the hall running his hand across the wall, feeling it's semi rough texture. No point in looking for something that can't be found, might as well enjoy his new senses as a human. He couldn't hear as well as he could as a bird, but his sense of smell had definitely become more acute. His vision wasn't as tunneled as much and his peripheral vision was limited, but that was okay. Breathing wasn't much different, but he found himself taking big gulps of air every now and then. All in all, watching humans for so long was a big advantage.

Neglecting the search he wandered down to the kitchen following the delicious smells. They were serving French toast with cinnamon and maple syrup that morning, minus the glitter. Eager to try the human delicacies Pavarotti grabbed a plate and found a table. Sitting down he cut into the meal, shoving a forkful into his mouth. He chewed before deeming it delicious.

Soon Warblers began to fill the dinning hall as they piled in from their respective homes. Blaine appeared, eagerly grabbing a latte and downing a large gulp. Pavarotti hopped up smacking his knee on the underside of the table. "Oww," he cried, holding it in pain. No wonder humans were always in bad moods. This hurt and all he'd done is hit his knee.

"You okay?" Blaine asked looking over at him.

"I hit my knee," he whimpered, not meaning for tears to fall. That had really hurt.

Blaine chuckled, patting him on the shoulder. "It'll stop hurting, don't worry. You mess not get hurt often."

"Never," Pavarotti answered. He was a well taken care of bird. "I'm Pavarel," he introduced, wiping his tears on his sleeve.

"I'm Blaine. You must be new."

He nodded. "First day. That really hurt," he whimpered again.

"What grade are you in?"

Pavarotti looked up at him. He actually wasn't sure but what he passable for? Maybe after that tear fest he could pass for 11. "Umm…freshman?" That was the youngest student in the school, right?

"Well I hope you like Dalton."

"Blaine!" Kurt yelled, rushing into the dinning hall and up to the older male. He spared Pavarotti a glance before turning back to his crush. "What happened to Pavarotti?"

"I'm not sure myself. Wes just said Pavarotti had been in his cage last night and this morning he was gone. He also mentioned something about a tinsel nest…"

"I hope he didn't take it. I tried to but Pavarotti pecked me for it. I hope he lowered Pavarotti's curtain last night too. Pavarotti gets really irritable if you don't."

"Sounds like his owner has rubbed off on him," Blaine laughed making the other boy blush. Pavarotti rolled his eyes before 'accidentally' pushing Blaine forward into Kurt. Both boys gasped in surprise as they went tumbling to the floor, Blaine's latte spilling over the both of them and soaking their shirts. They were both to flushed by their sprawled out position to be mad at Pavarotti. He had to admit, this was so much better than obnoxiously tweeting at them.

"Any luck finding Pavarotti there boys?" David asks, staring amusedly at them.

"That was my fault," Pavarotti admits. "I fell into Blaine, I didn't mean too," he said, not sounding convincingly innocent at all. David patted him on the shoulder, leaning in whispering to him.

"We've wanted to do that since Kurt got here, thank you."

"Trust me, I've suffered enough watching those two."

Blaine got up, offering a hand to Kurt who stood looking down at his coffee stained shirt. "I-I'm going to go shower and change," he stammered, before running off. Pavarotti looked at his owner as he ran off before turning to Blaine, wanting to smack him over the head.

"Why aren't you following him?"

"Our rooms are on different floors, so why would I follow him?"

Pavarotti groaned in disbelief. This was seriously going to be harder than a simple push.

-o-o-o-

All day he did EVERYTHING he could think of. He made sure Blaine and Kurt looked for him alone. He even got them lost in the Dalton hedge maze on the grounds. The hedge maze for crying out loud. The gardeners had been keeping it beautifully trimmed all year and the snow made it extremely romantic. Pavarotti stalked them like a vulture, a very well hidden vulture and all they did was talk music. Not even romantic music. He almost was tempted to start humming 'Kiss the girl' from the Little Mermaid but barely refrained.

"They are so exhausting," he complained a full two hours later to David. David shook his head making a remark of knowing how he feels.

"Every time Kurt even TEXTS Blaine he goes running. That boy has got it bad, but he won't make a move at the moment. Kurt is really distraught about being Pavarotti being lost, he feels like its his fault. It's really Wes's fault but Kurt really is attached to that bird."

"But this is the perfect time! He can comfort Kurt at this time without seeming like a creeper, and KURT needs to just Blaine he's in love with him and get it over with."

"Whose in love with who?" Blaine asked, coming up behind Pavarotti.

Pavarotti gave a smirk which would have looked ridiculously evil on his real face, but got his point across now. He turned in his seat looking up at Blaine. "Kurt is in L-O-V-E. I heard him wistfully sighing and reciting 'he loves me he loves me not' over and over while counting snowflakes."

Blaine visibly stiffened. "Really? Did he happen to say a name or…something?"

"Nope! But he has it bad. I bet that's why he wants to find Pavarotti. I bet he uses Pavarotti like a confidant and tells him EVERYTHING. Can't have him blabbing all his secrets."

"Well Pavarotti is a Warbler, he can't really talk."

"That's what you think," Pavarotti smiled getting up from his chair. "I'm going to bed, night!"

The next day Pavarotti had the unending urge to bang his head till it stopped. His plan had backfired on him. He's expected Blaine to ask Kurt about his supposed love, not avoid the other boy like he had the plague. This was more frustration as a human than as a bird. Wes, David, and Blaine looked at him as if he'd gone mental. Really? He was on that verge. They may just see him as a weird freshman on the outside, but on the inside he was a frustrated bird with a stingy owner. A stingy owner that was going to be given hell.

"Any sign of Pavarotti?" Kurt asked, taking a seat next to Blaine. Blaine hopped up from his seat making a half-assed excuse of checking the dorms again. Kurt's face immediately fell as he gave a small 'oh' of understanding. Pavarotti was not taking this shit. Reaching up he grabbed Blaine's wrist pulling him back into his seat.

"Excuse me?" Blaine questioned, slightly bothered by this freshman pulling him so roughly.

"TALK TO HIM!" Pavarotti all but growled. "ASK him who he's in love with don't avoid him you idiot. Jeeze I thought I was the bird-brain."

"In love? Who said I was in love with anyone?" Kurt asked, eyes wide.

"Every night it's Blaine this…Blaine that….does he love…does he love me not….wistful sigh after wistful sigh…." Okay, maybe he was cracking a little bit. For some reason things seemed to bother him more as a human than as a bird.

"How did you…? What?" Kurt stuttered, looking at the blue-eyed blonde haired boy in disbelief. "Pavarotti?" he asked, the disbelief evident in his voice.

Pavarotti shook his head, slamming his head down on the table. "Owie," he muttered, not even caring about the pain anymore. He seriously understood WHY humans took so many pills now.

"Kurt," Blaine whispered. "Do you love me?"

"HALLELUJAH!" Pavarotti exclaimed, turning to look at them. "He's figured it out. Please kiss him so I don't have to listen to him musing about what your lips taste like."

Kurt stared at him truly not believe this. "Pavarotti?"

"YOU GUYS I FOUND PAVAROTTI!" Luke yelled, running in with the little yellow canary. Pavarotti jumped up, glaring at the bird in HIS cage. That canary was NOT him. That canary had an obvious darker yellow underbelly. How insulting. That bird didn't look near as fabulous as he did.

Kurt hopped up running over and looking at the cage with glee. "Wait, this isn't Pavarotti."

Thank you, Kurt. At least his master knew it wasn't him.

Luke looked at the bird. "But at least he's a Warbler. There's a good chance that Pavarotti flew off, and until we find him this little guy can be our mascot. We can name him Luciano."

The boys looked between each other before nodding. "Welcome to the Warblers, Luciano," they smiled to the tiny bird, slightly bigger than Pavarotti.

-o-o-o-

Pavarotti pouted and glared. He wanted to be a bird again. Life was so much easier as a bird. Not only that, that new Luciano was stinking up his cage. He liked his cage in a certain order.

"It's only been two days, you have one left."

"I want to be a bird again. Humans suck, and they're annoying and they have more bowel movements in 24 hours than the entire bird population. I hate it."

"This is your decision," his canary fairy godmother smiled. He was glad to see she still didn't look like a Christmas tree.

"I want to be a bird again, and I want Luciano out of my cage."

"As you wish. When you wake you'll be a bird once again."

-o-

The next morning Pavarotti blinked his eyes open, tweeting in excitement at being tiny with an eight and a half inch wing span once again. He flapped his wings, zipping about his cage annoying his new cage mate who tweeted at him to shut up. Kurt groaned at being woke up so early in the morning. Pavarotti noticed that Kurt wasn't the only occupant in the bed. 'Blaine stayed the night?"

'You're slow, aren't you?' Luciano replied.

"Pavarotti!" Kurt exclaimed, rushing to the cage. He opened the door, sticking his hand inside. Reaching a finger forward he stroked Pavarotti's beak affectionately, Pavarotti nipping his finger affectionately.

'Human's pet!'

Pavarotti threw a glare at the bird before turning his fancy tail feathers up at him.

"Blaine, Pavarotti is back!" Kurt called over to the dark haired male. Blaine sat up in the bed showing he was wearing no shirt and a pair of sleeper pants.

"Well look at that," Blaine smiled.

"But he doesn't look to happy with Luciano."

"Pavarotti is a quick leaner, he'll adapt to a roommate in no time. For now please come lay back down, I wasn't done enjoying holding you."

Kurt blushed before nodding and shutting the door back. Pavarotti tweeted in delight. It had worked, they were together! In only two days! Points for the magic of birdie matching making.

'Shut up!' Luciano complained, hiding his head in his wing. Kurt looked back at Pavarotti before smiling and lowering the curtain. For once Pavarotti didn't wan the curtain down, he wanted to see what was going on with his master. A giggle sounded from the other side, followed by some resulting. 'Pervert!' Luciano scoffed.

'Pudgy parrot!'

'Who are you calling pudgy? At least I don't eat glitter. I saw those remnants in that bowl.'

'Don't you bring my glitter into this!' Pavarotti chirped, pointing at wing at him.

'Want to share the perch?'

Pavarotti glared before shrugging his wings. 'I get the left side.'

'Good because I only sleep on the right.'

It wasn't his perfect idea of a lover, but at least this development wouldn't take as long as Kurt's and Blaine's had. At least now he could sleep in peace.

"I'm just saying you need something other than Jeans in your wardrobe…."

"Kurt, please not again, slacks are not as comfortable."

Pavarotti tweeted. He wasn't turning human again. Blaine would just need to learn he wouldn't win.

-The End-


End file.
